


Papier-mâché

by themunak



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-17
Updated: 2012-03-17
Packaged: 2017-11-02 01:53:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/363709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themunak/pseuds/themunak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Over here, he gets true empathy, because he’s in the presence of someone who knows what it’s like to be stuck in a machine tapping into you for other people’s memories and shitting all over the rest of your brain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Papier-mâché

**Author's Note:**

> For the [kinkmeme](http://asscreedkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1611.html?thread=8116043#cmt8116043).
> 
> Originally posted at Tumblr.

One thing good about this whole set-up (this whole fucked up, completely batshit set-up) that Desmond can really say is that he can actually _rest_ in between memory sequences.

Oh, sure, he could come out of the Animus anytime back in Monteriggioni, but then he'd have to suffer the looks of pity and annoyance (the latter mostly from Shaun) once he slides off the over-decorated chair and heads off to a corner to lick his mental wounds. No, over here, he gets no judgement. Over here, he gets true empathy, because he's in the presence of someone who knows what it's like to be stuck in a machine tapping into you for other people's memories and shitting all over the rest of your brain.

It's ironic that Desmond finds his true ally within the bowels of the very thing that's destroying his brain.

It destroyed his companion too, very thoroughly, and he cant help but feel sorry for the guy, because he's going to get stuck here forever, while Desmond still has a chance of getting out and prancing around in the real world.

Least he can do for the guy is keep him company during his breaks. Desmond really isn't the best at conversation, and there are no cards (not that he can actually play poker) or any other stuff around to make things less awkward... But he can listen. He listens to Clay go on about his life before Abstergo and the Animus. Listens to him complain about shitty college professors and praise the rare good one. Listens to him detailing his first meet with William (Desmond's own dad! The big guy himself! He couldn't believe it) and his subsequent induction to the Brotherhood.

Clay refuses to talk about his family nor his life before college, but Desmond doesn't pry. It's not like he'd want to talk about his time on the Farm either.

(Then again, he thinks Clay knows. Somehow.)

But you'd think some conversation, one-sided as it is, can keep someone awake. Desmond truly thinks getting to know this guy who descended from the same people is something he can do well, but he finds himself being lulled to sleep instead, like Clay's voice is a lullaby. It doesn't help that he's tired from trying to catch up to a crazy Assassins with a fetish for things that go boom.

He doesn't mean to fall asleep. All he wants is to close his eyes for a moment, because they're pretty tired and he wants to rest them for a few seconds.

Desmond jerks up from his position on the ground to Clay's voice saying "Hey, I wasn't telling all of you that just for you to go and fall asleep on me."

Somehow he doesn't seem too angry about that.

"Sorry, man. Was tired," he mumbles as he swipes his sleeve over his mouth in case of any drool build-up because _hell_ , he's just realized that he was leaning on Clay's leg while sleeping. When the hell Clay moved to sit on the rock behind him, Desmond doesn't even know, but it's kinda embarrassing.

Really, seriously embarrassing. First needing the guy's help to fix his brain, then not being able to do shit for him in return, then falling asleep, and _then_ using his leg as a pillow.

But it'd be more embarrassing if he drooled all over his jeans.

"Listen, I uh-- I gotta get back to the Sync Nexus," Desmond says awkwardly, pointing at the big blue wall of data and whatnot behind them. "I've got a lot more to get done over there."

Clay waves him away, and as Desmond walks back towards his ancestors' memories, he hopes that this indeed works, that he wont keep being a vegetable, or some piece of paper that'd tear if someone grabs it too hard, or blow away in the wind. He hopes that he wont end up like Clay, but more than that, he just wishes he could do something, anything for the guy. Because being in the Animus for hours at a time is hell already, but living it it? God.


End file.
